


the first day of the rest of our lives

by hujwernoo



Series: but we still care about each other, we were living for each other [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Season 2 Rewrite, Season/Series 02, You're Welcome, because i was annoyed by klaus' arc, so I decided to fix it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25683658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hujwernoo/pseuds/hujwernoo
Summary: Klaus should really stop coming to the alley. It's not like it helps anyone. Everyone is probably dead, so all he's accomplishing is making himself feel shitty. This is the last time, he decides. After today, he'll stop coming.Turns out he's real fucking lucky he didn't decide that earlier.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Series: but we still care about each other, we were living for each other [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862443
Comments: 196
Kudos: 1331
Collections: Canon Divergent AUs, Semi-Functional Adults





	the first day of the rest of our lives

**Author's Note:**

> SO. I liked season 2, _overall,_ but I was incredibly disappointed with Klaus' (and Ben's) character arc and characterization in general. So I have decided to fix that.
> 
> Yes, this means I am writing _another_ series (quelle suprise). I originally wrote this as the first chapter in a long fic, but I decided to give you a taste of my idea for this verse. I'm not sure how long until the next fic, but it will come eventually, never fear.
> 
> Until then, I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> Trigger warnings at end.

Klaus is in the alley again.

It’s a rare occurrence nowadays. Daphne doesn’t like him lounging about in alleys, says it doesn’t suit him. His suits suit him. They suit him especially, in fact. Honestly, it almost feels like the Academy again, bespoke tailoring at every turn.

He’s been thinking about changing his look, recently.

He’d talk to Ben about it, but Ben is currently not speaking to him. Okay, _sure,_ having him spin Klaus might have been excessive, but it’s all part of the show, right? Can’t let his adoring public down, so that they don’t let _him_ down. Into the gutter. Klaus has been poor and homeless and he _does not want_ to do that again, please and thank you.

Which means showmanship, and schmoozing, and oh yes, copious amounts of grade-A bullshit. Klaus is a master of all three, and it has served him _very_ well over the past year. He went to Mexico again for the first time, and while the fact that it wasn’t his idea isn’t new, the fact that he remembers the whole thing is!

Honestly, Ben should be proud of his progress. Here Klaus is, sober for a whole _year,_ having visited exotic locales on other people’s dime, inspiring and bringing happiness to people, not squatting in alleyways or eating out of the trash, and he doesn’t even have to sleep with _anyone_ to do it!

(Not that Daphne would be opposed. Before - well, _Before,_ he might have even gone for it. She’s reasonably sweet, and he doesn’t get the impression she’s a closet sadist. But she’s one, old enough to be his mother, and two, not Dave. So. That settles that.)

Klaus’ life is better than - well, materially speaking, it’s better than it’s ever been. He has every possible luxury 1960 can offer. Or, no, it’s 1961 now. Hooray! Another new year, sure to be full of fabulous wealth and prestige.

….So why does he keep coming back to this alley?

He knows why. Of course he knows why. Ben knows why as well.

Doesn’t mean he has to like it.

“Hey there….everyone,” Klaus says, swinging his arms a little and looking around the alley. The sun is slipping over the horizon, and he should probably start heading back, because even if this isn’t the _worst_ neighborhood he’s ever been in he can just hear Ben nagging at him about ‘personal safety’ and all that shit.

Plus, he feels ridiculous. His siblings aren’t here, for fuck’s sake. He’s talking to thin air. How do normal people do this without dying of embarrassment?

But still, his traitorous mouth keeps going.

“I miss you,” Klaus says, glancing around as if he’ll realize he somehow overlooked Luther curled up under a newspaper or Five being unexpectedly silent. “Um. You’re probably dead. I mean, you’d think I’d know? Of all people. But nooo, none of you decided to pay me a visit even though I’m all sobered up now. A year now, by the way, thank you very much.

“Ben’s still doing fine. Presumably you’d know that, him not being where you are and all that jazz.” Klaus feels a bigger pang than usual about that, but manages to push it away by dint of long practice. He made his peace with keeping Ben away from the afterlife. He has. “So don’t worry about him, I’m looking out for him. He can be a real handful, you know. Yeah, ‘course you know.”

Klaus kicks at a small rock. It skitters across the alley ground, bouncing off the nearest wall and tumbling to a sudden stop. Klaus stops as well.

Feeling suddenly - _lost,_ he looks around the alley.

He swallows.

“Yeah,” Klaus whispers, blinking away tears. “A real handful. And he’d really - like to apologize. For all the trouble he caused. And for how he wasn’t really - useful, for anything. And for how he wasn’t - didn’t - end up like - all of you.” Klaus swallows again. “Like he should have.”

No one answers. Of course. There’s no one _here._

Klaus turns and leaves the alley.

The sun is set now, darkness drawn over the town. Klaus hurries along the streets, acutely aware of the fact that even if he isn’t in a suit proper, he’s still wearing some fairly nice clothes that light him up like a beacon to any potential thugs or muggers.

Well, if he gets mugged, he gets mugged. Joke’d be on them, Klaus isn’t carrying any cash or valuables at all. Considering, you know, he doesn’t actually have any of his own. Professional moocher, right here.

Klaus bites back a nervous giggle as the wind blows a leftover winter chill past him.

He really should try to get some money of his own. Ben told Klaus that Daphne apparently wrote him into her will, which is honestly really sweet of her; he never got around to looking it up during Apocalypse Week but he doubts Daddy Dearest did the same. But Klaus can’t wait for Daphne to kick it. He, of all people, knows how fast the winds of fate can change. He’s been coasting up until now, but it’s about time he started flapping. Or whatever metaphor goes best with the situation.

Right _now,_ though, he needs to get back to Daphne’s place without being stabbed. Surely he can manage that.

Ha. Ha. _Ha._

The first warning he gets is the sound of multiple running feet.

The second warning he gets is when someone _crashes_ into him, sending him sprawling onto the pavement.

“Augh! Shit! Watch where you’re going, you -”

Then he gets a good look at the person, and the words die in his throat.

“....Allison?” he breathes.

He has to be dreaming. He has to - he has to be dreaming, or high, or fucking _dead,_ because he’s staring into the face of _Allison,_ of his _sister,_ who’s looking back at him with an equal amount of shock, eyes wide, and nothing else in the world matters except his sister, _he found his sister,_ and she -

\- she _still has her neck bandaged,_ wait -

“There!”

“Fucking Negro bitch!”

“Get her!”

“Hey, you, grab that -!”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Well, time for _them_ to leave.

Klaus does grab his sister, but he yanks her to her feet and takes off running, which is probably not what the thugs chasing them had in mind. There are three men - boys, really, punks hanging out late who think they’re tough and try to prove it by harassing anyone who walks by. Klaus knows the type. 2019 or 1961, they’re all the same.

“Hey! Hey, get back here!”

“I’m gonna go with no!” Klaus shouts back. He grins at Allison, feeling exhilarated, sharp-edged and wild, and only part of that is due to running for his life because _most_ of it is because _his sister is alive._

The thugs are only a dozen steps behind, and they keep shouting, tossing out slurs Klaus grew used to when he was a child, but it makes his heart hammer with rage that Allison can _hear_ them this time, that he can see the fear on her face as she looks back over her shoulder. He has to be the one to guide their path, racing faster and faster through the streets that Allison evidently doesn’t know, because - she just arrived? Is that why her neck - no, focus, he can ask questions when they’re _not_ in mortal danger.

His focus must be pretty bad, though, because Allison takes him _totally_ by surprise when she yanks him to the side and shoves open a door.

It’s a salon, Klaus’ brain dizzily informs him as he stumbles in after her, her fingers locked around his arms in a death grip. A salon full of black women, who look at the two of them with alarm and collectively take a step back.

Reasonable.

They stagger into the middle of the shop, staring at the tableau of women for a long, frozen second, before they hear the sound of their pursuers behind them.

“Shit!” Klaus curses as he turns around, stepping back as they run into the shop, shielding Allison because he has to protect the wounded ~~soldier~~ member and he tries to remember how to fight a damn group when he’s barely even fought at _all_ since ‘Nam, and _now would be a really great time to get your incorporeal ass over here BEN -_

And then one of the hairdressers steps up to the thugs, brandishing a pair of scissors in possibly the most elegantly threatening way Klaus has ever seen.

“You boys must be lost,” she says, a voice of pure steel. The other hairdressers gather around her, stepping up in front of Allison and Klaus armed with a variety of curlers and scissors. “I suggest you find a barbershop in Oak Town. They specialize in your kind of hair.”

The boys waver for a moment, eyes flicking between Klaus and Allison, and the variety of sharp/hot objects wielded by a cadre of women.

Then, slowly, hatred in their eyes, they retreat out of the salon. The first woman rushes to close the door and lock it.

Then all eyes turn to Klaus and Allison.

“That was fucking badass,” Klaus says, staring at Scissors Hero with admiration. “Seriously, that was awesome. Oh, and thanks for saving our bacon there, that was a close one, right, Allison?”

He looks at Allison for confirmation, only to see -

“Oh shit,” Klaus says as her face crumples.

She all but sags against him, breathing fast and shallow, and he catches her in a half-hug that sees him patting her back more out of reflex than thought. She’s shaking, and gasping against his shoulder, and for a moment Klaus remembers that horrible ride back from the cabin with her breaths growing shallower and shallower.

But no, no, she’s still _breathing,_ just she’s having some sort of breakdown, which is honestly pretty understandable now that he thinks about it, if the bandage on her neck means what he thinks it means.

“Here, sit down,” someone says, and Klaus hurries to do so. Or as best he can with his sister clinging to him like a limpet. Wow, that _is_ annoying. He might owe Ben an apology.

“Uh,” Klaus says awkwardly as he pats Allison’s back. “There, there? Hey, Allison, it’s alright, everything’s okay now, promise. Well, I guess not totally, ‘cause this city’s kind of a shithole, but hey! I found you!” Then he has to take his turn at catching his breath, because it’s finally sinking in. “Jesus. _I found you._ ”

Maybe it’s the trace of wonder in his tone, or just that Allison can compose herself pretty fast when she wants to, but her breathing evens out over the next handful of seconds. She pulls back a little, looking at him.

Fuck. Now that he’s looking at _her_ closely for the first time, he can see that….yeah, she looks _exactly_ like he remembers before Five pulled his last-ditch time jump. Bandage and all.

Well. That answers some questions. Raises a lot more, but so is the nature of life. At least, that’s what he tells people, and they keep giving him flower necklaces so he must be doing _something_ right.

There’s a slight movement to the side, and Allison looks. Klaus follows her gaze to see the group of hairdressers all standing in a semicircle around them. A couple are even still holding their improvised weapons.

“Oh,” Klaus says. “....Hi. Uh, thanks for the save, did I say thanks for that?”

“You did,” Scissors Hero says in a measured tone. She’s eyeing him - not with hostile intent, but like she’s suspicious of what she sees. Which, rude. Usually Klaus has to say at least a couple more sentences to earn that look.

Allison sniffs a little, then pulls away from Klaus, sitting herself more upright on the seat. She looks at the group with flawless Hollywood grace. Klaus envies how she’s able to pull off that look on a moment’s notice when _his_ efforts at emulating the same just end up looking constipated (according to Ben, anyways).

Klaus can’t help himself from grabbing her hand, though. She stiffens slightly, shooting him a mildly startled glance, and for a second Klaus worries she’ll pull away _just when he found her again,_ but - she doesn’t. In fact, her shoulders relax slightly, and she even squeezes his hand.

“Right,” Klaus says, when he belatedly remembers that he’s going to have to do the talking. “So. um. Sorry for barging in on you like that, although not too sorry because we were in fact running for our lives. We can leave - soonish?” He looks at Allison for confirmation.

She nods slowly, looking around the room. Her palm is sweaty in his own, which is kind of gross, but he’s still riding the high of finding his sister alive and doesn’t even care.

“Lovely place you have here!” Klaus adds brightly, looking around himself. It _is_ nice, inviting and open and warm. Part of that is probably charitable thoughts from the relief of being saved, but it’s still objectively nice. “I like the _decor._ Yellow is _so_ underappreciated.”

That finally garners a huff of laughter from Scissors Hero. A small one, but a victory nonetheless. “Thanks,” she says, finally setting her scissors down. “But you might not want to leave for a couple hours, at least. Those boys might be hanging around.”

“Oh,” Klaus deflates. “Point. Well, I suppose we’ll have to impose on you lovely ladies for a bit longer, then. By the way, what’s your name, ‘Scissors Hero’ is very accurate but more of a descriptor, you know?”

“Name’s Odessa, I own the place,” Apparently-Odessa says. “And you?”

“Klaus,” he says. He nudges Allison a bit. “And this is Allison. I’ll be speaking for the both of us tonight, due to - the obvious.”

Allison gives Odessa a nod of thanks and Klaus a mildly exasperated look.

“Pleasure,” Odessa says, sinking down onto another seat. She looks at them with an assessing gaze. Less suspicious this time, which is good. “So, since you seem to be sticking around for a bit, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind helping clean up? Had a busy day.”

Klaus heaves a sigh. “You drive a hard bargain, Madame. But alright, fine. You’ll have to tell me _exactly_ what to do, though, I’m terrible at cleaning. Devil’s work, I always say.”

Allison huffs a laugh and pushes his shoulder. He sticks his tongue out at her, and she pushes him harder. He heaves another, louder, sigh, and gets up.

There actually isn’t that much to do, in the end. Or at least it works out that way when there’s almost a dozen people helping out. Klaus doesn’t know if they’re _all_ hairdressers or if they’re relatives or neighbors or somesuch, but he’s not complaining either way.

After the third time in as many minutes that Odessa catches him looking over at Allison when he’s supposed to be sweeping hair, she gives him a look that, while stern, also manages to be - sympathetic?

“Hey,” Odessa says, putting a hand on his arm. He goes still, blinking at her in startlement. “Could’ve gotten ugly tonight. But it didn’t. You both got to safety. And you can come back here whenever you need, got it?”

“Oh,” Klaus says. “I - thanks.”

It’s a nice gesture, it really is. But Klaus doesn’t ever plan on needing to take her up on it. Allison is going straight back to Daphne’s with him as soon as the coast is clear, and living in the lap of luxury until the rest of their layabout siblings manage to turn up. It’s actually pretty great, once he thinks about it - Klaus never once thought he’d get the opportunity to repay her for funding all of his rehab stints, but here they are.

There…. _is_ a fairly high chance the upper crusts aren’t going to react well to a black woman entering their sphere. But Klaus is pretty sure he can manage it. Do more shows, schmooze more people, maybe employ a few _other_ avenues of persuasion if need be. Ben won’t mind more shows if it’s for Allison, and - Dave would understand, if it comes to that.

It’s then that he notices Odessa said something. “Hm? Sorry, missed that.”

“I said you must love her an awful lot,” Odessa says. She’s giving him a softer look now.

Klaus opens his mouth, and closes it again. He looks away and nods. “Don’t tell her that, though,” he says with a laugh that sounds forced even to his ears. “She’d never let me live it down.”

“Oh, I think this world could always use a little more love,” Odessa says. “I’m glad you two found it with each other. Makes you think that one day things like skin won’t matter to anyone when they’re talking about their future someone.”

Slowly, Klaus turns his head to her.

“....Uh,” he says.

She pauses her own sweeping when she looks at him. “Something wrong?”

“....Wait,” Klaus says, holding up a hand. “I. Wait. You think - oh, shit, you do think. _No!_ No, absolutely not, nope, nada, not a chance, never ever not if you gave me a zillion dollars and a shiny gold ticket to anywhere in the timeline. _No, why did you put that in my head._ ”

There’s a faint questioning noise, and Klaus turns to see Allison - along with the rest of the women in the store - looking over at him. Oh, he probably wasn’t using a strictly indoor voice. He would apologize for that, but actually, he doesn’t feel like it. This is definitely a subject that deserves a denial of the loudest possible volume.

Allison is frowning at him, and Klaus throws out his hands to encompass the sheer _disturbingness_ of the words, “They think we’re sleeping together!”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said it _quite_ so bluntly, though, because Allison’s face takes on a greenish tinge and she makes a sound halfway between a squeaky toy and a cat hacking up a hairball.

“Wait, what?” says one of the women.

“You aren’t together?” says another.

Allison makes another sound, and Klaus can’t help but let out a whimper himself. “No!” he says in a completely normal voice that isn’t an entire octave higher than usual. “Absolutely not! Not together! Siblings! _Siblings!_ She’s my sister and I have no desire to sleep with her _whatsoever!_ ”

Allison nods frantically, jabbing her finger at him emphatically.

 _“Siblings,”_ Odessa says, stepping forward to stand between the two of them. She looks between them, and raises her eyebrow at Klaus. “Well, I’m guessing half? There ain’t no way you’re a brother, Klaus. Any whiter and you’d be smeared across a chalkboard.”

“I’d take offense to that, but I’m still traumatized by you imagining me together with my sister,” Klaus says. He shivers theatrically. “And not even half! Adopted. _But that still counts._ ” He pauses. “To some of us, anyways.”

The death glare from Allison is completely worth it.

“How’d a white kid _and_ a black kid get adopted together?” one of the women mutters. He probably wasn’t meant to hear it, but Klaus can see the question in nearly everyone’s eyes anyways.

“Oh, it’s a long and sordid tale full of mystery and mayhem, but the time is too short to tell it now,” Klaus waves a hand. “The important thing is that everyone’s clear that I am _not_ sleeping with my sister.”

Allison hisses at him, and Klaus likes to think he knows her well enough to decode the meaning as ‘stop MENTIONING it, for god’s sake!’

“I can’t help it!” Klaus exclaims. “It’s in my brain now, and if I have to suffer then so do you!”

Another death glare.

“Well,” Odessa says. “Now that that’s cleared up, can we get back to cleaning? I’d like to get back home.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, sure,” Klaus says.

They’re done in the next couple minutes, and _then_ start setting up a couple more chairs around the place.

“Meeting tonight,” Odessa says briefly, passing him a flyer. “You can stay if you like, or head off. I doubt those boys are around anymore.”

Allison leans over to look at the flyer as well. It’s for some sort of civil rights group, the SJCC. That’s - well, that’s really nice, all power to them and all, but right now Klaus has other things on his mind. Like his sister who just dropped into 1961 with no documentation and a recently-slit throat.

Klaus stuffs the flyer into his shirt and links an arm through Allison’s, sending her a quick smile. “Shall we go, then?”

She nods, and they leave the salon.

The streets are quieter now, fewer people out and about. The streetlamps aren’t all working in this part of town, and Allison doesn’t protest when Klaus gives the darker alleys a wide berth.

Alone with his sister for the first time tonight, Klaus doesn’t know what to say.

Of course, that’s never stopped him before, so he clears his throat and says, “So I guess you just arrived? Dropped out of Five’s glowy lightning ball of doom? Possibly in a surprisingly homey alleyway?”

Allison blinks at him with mild confusion. She nods.

“Great,” Klaus sighs. “Well, I guess that means the others are going to turn up one of these days. I honestly wasn’t sure.”

Allison makes a small, questioning noise.

“Oh, I’ve been here for a year now,” Klaus says. “ _Super_ fun, let me tell you.”

She stops walking all of a sudden, which also pulls Klaus to a stop because his arm is still linked with hers. “Hey, careful, if I faceplant on the pavement and scrape up this moneymaker my little shows won’t be nearly as well-received.”

She doesn’t seem to be listening, however. Instead, she’s looking at him with wide eyes, face frozen. She mouths ‘a _year?_ ’ at him, a faint wheeze of air the only indication she tried saying it out loud at all.

Klaus looks away. “Uh, yeah. Dropped into that lovely alley about a year ago. Thought I was the only one who made it. I go back there sometimes, that’s why I was nearby. And to think I almost didn’t go tonight.” Klaus swallows. “I’m glad I did.”

There’s a mildly glazed look in Allison’s eyes as she processes his words. Then she shocks him for the second time this night by moving forward and wrapping him up in a hug.

Klaus freezes, because - even with Ben being newly corporeal, they don’t really hug much. Get into tackle fights as an excuse to touch each other as often as possible, yes. But hugging? Not really their thing.

But Allison is hugging him right now, and as soon as he realizes that, he hugs back. God, he missed her.

They stand there for a few more moments before Klaus breaks it off, because Allison is new to this timeline and he suspects even her rather traumatic introduction wouldn’t cause her to realize that they probably shouldn’t hug in public. He nudges her and starts walking again, looking over his shoulder. Fortunately, even the few people eyeing them don’t seem inclined to come over and start throwing punches.

“So!” Klaus says. “I have a place, and it might be tricky to get them to let you stay there but I can do it, don’t worry. Just let Big Brother Klaus take care of everything.”

The levity works, and Allison rolls her eyes and swats his shoulder, as she tries and fails to suppress a smile. He grins at her.

“You laugh, but I actually am older than you now,” Klaus says, neglecting to mention that he already was.

Allison looks startled to realize that, blinking a few times. Klaus lets her process for a while as they walk, because god knows he took some time to do so himself. It’s a hell of a trip, to jump straight from the end of the world to the 1960s.

They’re just a block away from Daphne’s when Allison taps his arm. He looks at her, and she mouths, _‘Ben?’_

“Eh, he’s around here somewhere,” Klaus says, turning his head to look. It’s possible Ben is out and about; he likes wandering among all the rich-people houses and creepily spying on everyone. “We had a bit of a tiff earlier, he stormed off and dramatically swore to never speak to me again, but now that you’re here I can avoid the whole grovelling stage! Your timing is impeccable, I must say. Oh! And I can make him corporeal at will now, it’s great.”

Allison gives a genuine smile at that, and nods. She squeezes his arm.

It’s a bit of an adventure sneaking back into Daphne’s without anyone seeing Allison, but Klaus had the escape routes of the house memorized the day after he moved in. Allison looks pretty damn confused at how he’s living in a mansion, but doesn’t hold up their infiltration trying to ask questions. They have to hide in two closets on the way to Klaus’ bedroom, but even the _closets_ in this house are roomy so it’s no great hardship.

And then they’re in his room, and Klaus flops down face-first on the bed. “Ugh, my beloved down feathers,” he says into the bedspread. “How I’ve missed thee.”

There’s the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Klaus tilts his face a little to look at Allison. And also breathe. “Oh, right. I _guess_ we can share the bed, so long as you promise to keep your hands to yourself. I’m saving myself for marriage, you see.”

She gives him a flat look. Then she gestures, somewhat impatiently, around the room.

“Is the decor not to your taste? You’ve picked up some Hollywood snobbery, dear sister, it’s hardly worse than the Academy, and Daphne only hires the best decorators - ow!”

Allison rolls her eyes and settles herself more comfortably on the bed. Klaus rubs his arm and pouts at her.

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” he complains. “Fine. So, getting dumped in 1960 was pretty weird, as you can imagine, and Ben and I didn’t have a helpful sibling guide. So after a chance came along we started schmoozing up to rich people. You know, dazzle them with our - or, rather, my - otherworldly powers and all that shit. I’ve got them eating out of my hand, it’s great. Just came back from spending the winter in Mexico. I mostly stay with Daphne, she’s the one who ‘discovered’ me. This is her place.”

Allison nods slowly, a thoughtful look on her face. She looks around the room for a few seconds, before looking back at Klaus and mimes writing something.

“Oh, uh, hold on, let’s see here….” Klaus hunts around the room.

He’s _just_ found some sort of fancy leather-bound day planner that can serve until morning when he hears “Hey, did you know Angela the maid is having an affair with - _Allison?_ ”

Klaus looks up at Ben. “I did _not_ know that!” he chirps. “But I appreciate her dedication, considering Allison wasn’t in 1961, let alone Dallas, before today. Really, Ally, how did you manage that one?”

Ben is standing in the middle of the room, staring wide-eyed at Allison. She isn’t returning the favor, of course, instead staring at Klaus in bemusement. Then realization blooms over her face and she looks at where Klaus is, eyes skittering over the space where Ben is standing.

“Klaus,” Ben says. “Why is Allison here? _How_ is she here?”

Klaus groans theatrically. “I’ve done too much explaining tonight, ask her yourself.”

With a thought, he summons up his power. A slight buzz vibrates through his bones as his hands are wreathed in blue, and Ben is pulled onto the visible plane.

Allison gasps and stands up, eyes wide. Ben stares at her, eyes almost as wide, and then he swallows and smiles.

“Hey, Allison,” he says.

Which is apparently the signal for Allison to rush forward and engulf him in a hug before breaking down in tears, because that’s exactly what she does.

Klaus watches them cling to each other for a while, settling back down on the bed. It’s - nice, he’s surprised to discover. It’s nice to see one of his siblings interact with Ben, to see them so happy, to know that he’s the one that made it happen.

Eventually, Allison detangles herself from Ben and comes back to the bed. She wipes at her face, periodically looking back at Ben as if he’ll disappear if she stops looking for too long.

Which, well, he might. Klaus can keep him visible for a decently long time now, but not forever.

“It’s good to see you,” Ben says, still smiling a little. Rude, he almost never smiles at Klaus like that, and definitely not for so long. “And it’s good to finally have someone else with common sense around here, you can help me keep Klaus in line.”

“Hey!” Klaus squawks. Allison chuckles, the traitor.

“Seriously, though, what happened? How are you here?” Ben says.

Klaus hands over the day planner and attached pen, and Allison starts writing. She outlines that she just got dropped in this time, and how she ran into Klaus, and their ensuing adventure. She doesn’t put as much snark into it as Klaus would, but to each their own. Ben cranes his neck to follow along as she writes.

“Huh,” Ben says as he sits down next to Allison, looking thoughtful. “So - Five messed up, but not how we thought. They aren’t dead, they’re just - dropping in at different points in time?”

“I men, that’s what it looks like,” Klaus shrugs.

Allison looks between them and worries at her lip. She writes, pen scratching on paper, _How long before the others arrive?_

“You’re asking me?” Klaus says, falling back to lie on his back. The bed is soft, and he can feel the events of the day catching up to him. Fuck, and isn’t he meeting some important muckety-muck tomorrow? He needs rest. “I have no idea. It was a year between you and us. Could be another year, could be ten. Five is kind of terrible at this, if you haven’t noticed.”

His hands aren’t glowing any more, Klaus notes. Ben is still sitting next to Allison, but she can’t see him. Not that she’s looking at him right now. Instead, she’s looking at Klaus with a horrified expression.

Klaus sighs. “Yeah,” he says. “But hey, it’s better than everyone dying like I thought. So - how about we just get some sleep right now? I have some stuff going on tomorrow. We can figure it all out then.”

After a couple of seconds, Allison nods reluctantly.

They both change into pajamas. They’re a little big on Allison, and he finds it hilarious that now _she’s_ stealing clothes from _him_ and can’t help but rib her about it a little, but eventually they crawl under the covers. Klaus stops her from turning off the bedside lamp.

“That stays on,” he says, giving her a tight smile.

She gives him a weird look, but Klaus is used to that. At least she acquiesces, and the lamp stays on.

Klaus closes his eyes. “Night, Ben,” he says, finally letting out a yawn. “Night, Allison.”

“Night,” Ben echoes, and slips out of the room to go do nighttime-Ben things.

Allison shuffles around until her hand brushes against his arm, and she squeezes it gently before retracting.

Klaus falls asleep smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> TW: racial slurs, threatened racial violence, period-typical racism, brief mention of sexual bartering.
> 
> So! *rubs hands together* Klaus' life is about to get very interesting, and I have plans for him and Allison trying to navigate 1961 together. Hope you enjoyed this as much as I did!


End file.
